The Hero Revealed Part 6

"He wasn't talking about rock music," I said, interrupting a discussion about the difference between Light Rock and Soft Rock. "He was talking about rocks rocks!"

"What do you mean?" Plasma Girl asked.

"I mean regular, ordinary, old everyday rocks. The kind you find on the ground."

"That doesn't make any sense," Tadpole said. "There are millions of different rocks."

"No," I corrected him, "there are only three. Don't you remember in science cla.s.s when we learned the three types?"

They all looked at me blankly, indicating how little they had absorbed of Miss Marble's recent lessons on geology.

"I sort of remember a little about it," Plasma Girl offered. "Just not very much."

"Okay, fine," I said. "Let me refresh your memories. Rocks are divided into three types-igneous, sedimentary, and metamorphic."

The blank looks remained in place.

"Let's start with igneous," I said. "Igneous rocks are crystal or gla.s.sy types of rocks that are created by molten lava when it cools."

As they stood there silently, I realized I wasn't getting through to them. So I jumped ahead.

"What it means," I said triumphantly, "is that I know exactly where one of the cards is located."

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

Lava's Labors Lost

In the heart of downtown Superopolis is Lava Park. It's called that because there is a live volcano smack in the middle of it. The volcano, Mount Reliable, erupts every day at exactly five o'clock. And without fail, one of Superopolis's many heroes arrives on the scene and prevents it from doing any damage.

"The best example of igneous rock in all Superopolis is in Lava Park," I informed my teammates. "Igneous rock comes from lava that has hardened. It makes perfect sense."

"But how do we find a card that's hidden in a live volcano?" Halogen Boy asked, glowing dimly.

"It's not in the volcano," I responded. "Can you think of a place that normally sells this sort of thing and also happens to be located right near the volcano?"

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LAVA PARK.

After early attempts to sell the land around Mount Reliable as housing lots failed, the city leaders gave up and declared the area a munic.i.p.al park. At over two hundred acres, the park now provides a needed oasis of green (and bubbling red) in the heart of the Superopolis business district. The numerous thermal vents throughout the park make it particularly popular for barbecues.

"Inkblot's Newsstand!" Plasma Girl cried.

"Exactly!" I said.

The Inkblot has had his newsstand on a corner of Lava Park for over fifty years. In that time he's watched lots of major historical events pa.s.s by on the front pages of the newspapers he sells there. Today's headlines weren't all that earthshaking, though. The Hero Herald The Hero Herald had a headline about an investigation into the unusually large number of solid gold thimbles that Mayor Whitewash recently received as gifts-"They're only thimbles of appreciation" the headline quoted the mayor as saying. had a headline about an investigation into the unusually large number of solid gold thimbles that Mayor Whitewash recently received as gifts-"They're only thimbles of appreciation" the headline quoted the mayor as saying. The Weekly Daily The Weekly Daily had a story about the enormous jackpot available in the Superopolis Lottery, which of course was pointless since the drawing had already happened three days ago, and had a story about the enormous jackpot available in the Superopolis Lottery, which of course was pointless since the drawing had already happened three days ago, and The Superopolis Times The Superopolis Times had a piece on AI's capture of the Multiplier. They reported the Multiplier's dramatic increase in power, but there was no mention of the fact that my dad and the Big Bouncer had really brought him down. had a piece on AI's capture of the Multiplier. They reported the Multiplier's dramatic increase in power, but there was no mention of the fact that my dad and the Big Bouncer had really brought him down.

In addition to papers and magazines, the Inkblot's stand also has a wide array of snack-size bags of potato chips, a selection of candy bars and breath mints, and, sure enough, a small a.s.sortment of card packs. Among them was a stack of Amazing Indestructo Collector Cards.

"h.e.l.lo, young uns," the Inkblot greeted us as we made straight for the cards. "Can't get enough of that AI stuff, can you? When I was just a sprout, I was the same way about Captain Radio. You kids probably don't remember him, but he was the Amazing Indestructo of his day. He could ride the radio waves like one o' them surfer dudes. Now that was a power! I still remember the day I met him. I must have been about the age you whippersnappers are now. I couldn't wait to show him my power."

Hal illuminated his hand and I tried to both check out the cards and look like I was listening politely.

"I was still young enough to think my power was pretty impressive," the Inkblot continued. "I was in my brand-new costume. White as snow it was, except for the shape of a dark blot of ink smack in the middle of my chest. My boots, belt, and cape were the same dark color as the blot. I felt like I could take on every villain in Superopolis! That's when I met the captain."

We were halfway through the cards at this point, but there was no sign of a Professor Brain-Drain card. The Inkblot kept rambling on, now seemingly telling his story to a pigeon that had landed on the far edge of his counter.

"'Well, sir,' I said to him, 'wait' 'til you see this!' Then I took out my bottle of ink and poured it into my hand. Of course, it didn't land there, ya see, because that's my power. I can repel ink from my body, ya know! So I held out my hand to Captain Radio and the blob of ink hovered in the air above my palm. I moved that blob from hand to hand, working up its speed, and then, wham! wham! I sent that inkblot flying through the air until it went I sent that inkblot flying through the air until it went splat splat against a wall over ten feet away." against a wall over ten feet away."

I only heard a portion of this. We were down to the last couple of packs, and there was still no sign of the card.

"I turned to the captain," the Inkblot continued, "sure that he would be as impressed with my power as I was. He stood there silently for a few moments as my heart beat with excitement. I figured my skill had left him speechless. Then he burst out laughing, hopped onto a radio wave, and surfed away without saying a word to me. I felt pretty lousy for a while, but I also grew up a little that day. It wasn't long after that I got my first job selling newspapers. And in sixty years, I haven't once gotten my hands dirty handling them."

The Inkblot finished his story and held out his ink-free hands for me to inspect. We had gone through all the packs, and none of them contained a Professor Brain-Drain card. Before I could ask him about it, though, an enormous rumble suddenly threw us all to the ground. Mount Reliable began to spit b.a.l.l.s of fire into the sky. Tadpole shouted, "Hey, guys, look! It's the Weatherman!"

Sure enough, the Weatherman himself was taking on today's volcano duty. Soaring to the top of the peak, he whipped up a blizzard over the mouth of the volcano, instantly freezing the lava that erupted into the air. For five minutes he kept at it, turning molten lava into-well, igneous rock. Finally, right on schedule, the volcano calmed down. After waving to the cheering crowd that had stopped to watch his performance, the Weatherman glided off on an air current into the late afternoon sky.

"I could save Superopolis, too," the Inkblot grumbled, "if the consarned thing ever erupted in ink."

This brought me back to the issue at hand.

"Inkblot, are these all the cards that you have?" I asked, trying not to sound desperate.

"Sure are," he replied. "I just put 'em out about an hour ago. Only sold one other pack, so far."

We all looked at each other in despair. Could it have been the one with our card?

"In fact," the Inkblot continued, "there's the little tyke that I sold it to, right over there."

He pointed to a kid who couldn't have been much older than four. He was standing near a park bench with his mother and was just opening a pack of cards. We all gasped as we saw him reveal first one card with AI on it and then a second that clearly showed Professor Brain-Drain himself. The little kid snarled.

"Professor Brain-Drain?" he growled. "I hate Professor Brain-Drain. He's evil!"

Then, as we stood there helplessly, the kid took the card, crumpled it up, and tossed it into his mouth. That's when we noticed that his teeth were all sharp points of metal. It only took a couple of chews before he spit the completely ground-up card onto the sidewalk.

One Professor Brain-Drain card destroyed-only two left in all Superopolis.

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CHAPTER TWELVE.

The Anthill of Terror

We all stood looking down at the chewed-up remains of one of the only three Professor Brain-Drain collector cards in existence. The little monster who had left it in this state was now strolling away with his mother. As I stared after him, I thought I saw a shadowy figure moving in the trees nearby. But then I blinked, and it was gone.

"We were so close!" wailed Tadpole.

"But at least it proves that O Boy's theory is correct," Plasma Girl added, trying to sound optimistic. "Now we just have to figure out where the next one is and get to it first."

"Do you know where it is, O Boy?" Hal asked hopefully.

"Well, I've been thinking about the second type of rock, sedimentary," I said. "You guys all remember what sedimentary rock is, right?"

"Um, sure," said Stench. "But go ahead and remind us anyway."

The rest of the gang nodded.

"Right," I said, even though I could tell they had no idea. "Sedimentary rock is made up of small particles that acc.u.mulate over long periods of time. As weight presses them down, these particles, or sediment, fuse together and become rock. So the next location to check is obvious."

"It is?" said Hal.

"Of course," I replied. "We can't get at the sedimentary rock that is buried under layers and layers of earth, but it always has to start out as a top layer at some point."

"I'm not sure I'm following you," said Stench.

"Let me give you one more hint. One of the most common types of sedimentary rock is sandstone."

"The beach!" said Plasma Girl.

"Right," I replied. "The sedimentary rock of the future exists right now in the form of sand all over MegaManly Beach."

"There's only one place at the beach that might have AI Collector Cards," said Plasma Girl, "and that's Aunty Penny's Arcade."

A boardwalk separates downtown from the beach, and there's an entire strip of cool shops set up along it. The one we were heading for was Aunty Penny's Arcade. You could get all sorts of neat things there. But you couldn't buy them-you had to win them. There were dozens of different games to play to win tickets, which you could exchange for incredible prizes. Well, okay, most of the prizes were pretty chintzy. But who cares! The fun was in winning them.

The first thing we saw as we entered the arcade was the huge sign that said: THE USE OF SUPER POWERS IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED. That's what I always liked about this place. Everyone else was on an equal level with me. In fact, I usually had an advantage, because most people in Superopolis are helpless when they can't use their powers.

The second thing I noticed was the box of Amazing Indestructo Collector Card packs that was sitting smack at the front of the prize display case. I went up to the counter to talk to Fly Guy, the manager of Aunty Penny's Arcade. Of course, he isn't actually a fly. In fact he looks completely human-except for his eyes. They bulge out from his head, and each one has dozens of facets that allow him to see what is going on all over the place. He also sort of buzzes when he talks, but he only does that to scare [image]

the littler kids into thinking he really is a fly.

"How long have you had these available?" I asked, pointing at the cards.

"I just put 'em out today, kidzzz," he buzzed. "Only thirteen prizzze tickets will get you a pack."

"How many packs are there total?"

"Thirty-six," he answered. "You could be the first to claim them azzz a prizzze."

"Fantastic!" I said. "We're going to win every one of them!"

"Just make sure you don't use any superpowerzzz," he added suspiciously, "or I'll toss you out of here on your b.u.t.tzzz."

I couldn't help but smile. "Oh, there won't be any danger of that."

I returned to where the rest of the team was waiting and explained to them that we could get a pack for every thirteen tickets we won. Unfortunately, if the right pack was the last one in the box, it would ultimately require 468 tickets to get it.

"It stinks that we can't just sneak a look at them and find the one we need," Stench said.

"That's not all that stinks," added Plasma Girl, as she, Tadpole, and Hal began backing away from Stench.

"Sorry." He shrugged, reaching for one of his canisters of deodorizer. "That happens sometimes when I get upset."

"Unfortunately, we can't get a look at them unless we win them," I explained. "Why don't you go over to the Anthill of Terror, Stench, since you're always good at that. And we'll go try some of the games over here."

"Yeah, yeah. I can take a hint," Stench grumbled. Turning, he stalked off in the opposite direction, fuming in more ways than one.

From a safe distance, I kept one eye on Stench as he wandered over to where an anthill rose about five feet off the floor. It had a three-foot-high plastic wall surrounding it and scary-looking neon letters mounted above that proclaimed: THE ANTHILL OF TERROR!

Stench picked up a fis.h.i.+ng pole that had a magnet swinging at the end of its line. He dropped a quarter into a coin slot next to the game. The anthill immediately started rumbling. A few seconds later dozens and dozens of plastic ants began pouring out of the top and sliding down the sides. The ants were made out of plastic, but some of them also had a metal ball bearing inside. These were the ones that Stench was after. He swung his line over the plastic wall smack into a pile of the churning critters, then reeled it back in with one of the ants sticking to the magnet.

Lifting it over the wall, he removed the ant and quickly recast his line. Ants were still pouring from the hill, but they were also disappearing into a channel in the base. His second cast landed in the biggest pile of the tumbling "terror" ants. But each time he raised his line there was nothing attached to it. After two attempts, he only captured one more ant.

The number of ants now coming out of the top began to dwindle. Stench had never gotten fewer than five ants. He threw his line once again into a ma.s.s of the seething insects, and once again came up empty. The ants had now stopped emerging, and the ones that were still visible were quickly reaching the base and vanis.h.i.+ng. In a last desperate act, he swung his line over one of the last remaining ants and it rose up and attached itself to the magnet.

"What's the deal with the Anthill of Terror?" I heard Stench gripe to Fly Guy. "I've always gotten at least five."

"That wazzz the problem, kid," he buzzed. "Everyone else did, too. So I took out half the ball bearingzzz."

"Does Aunty Penny know you're giving her a bad name?" Stench asked.

"It wazzz her idea. She needzzz the money to pay for her new nozzze job."